Little White Lies (29 page)

I pause for a minute to catch my breath and then continue in a voice so low, only A.J. can hear.

“And if you persist in this folly, then fuck you, too. Oh yeah, I almost forgot to answer your question… no, I don’t care.”

I have never sworn at A.J. before and I leave him with his mouth open as I turn away and continue ondown the street.

***

I arrive back at Joe’s valet parking and hand the claim ticket to the attendant who takes off on a dead run across the street to the car lot. My friends walk up quietly and stand at my side. My brief discussion with A.J. has left things a little strained among the four of us. Lionel breaks the silence.

“I hope you don’t ever fuck up in a way where I’ll be obliged to kick your ass, Phil. In fact I’ll make it stronger… I PRAY you never fuck up… “

He turns and punches Billy affectionately on the shoulder.

“That goes for you too, Bat.”

He steps off the curb and shadow boxes with a few punches and then stops and kicks awkwardly, his foot barely clearing the ground. He might have to specialize in broken ankles if he’s ever going to do anything with karate. It looks like any higher targets are out of the question.

“Damn, Phil, that was fun! Too bad Bat cold-cocked that other guy… he was big. It would have been interesting to see how an old fart like you would fare with a guy that size.”

Lionel is a ball-breaker and an icebreaker. Listening to his nonsense we all relax and pile into the car laughing.

Old fart, huh?

***

As the designated driver I have a good excuse to remain quiet on the way back to Doral. Lionel is still talking non-stop about the confrontation. He has Billy and A.J. laughing with his post-fight commentary. So far the story hasn’t ranged far from the facts, but it’s only a matter of time. In fact, it probably won’t be too long before he will be a full-fledged participant. There’s a lot of nervous energy hanging around and Lionel’s imagination, working in tandem with his natural reservoir of bullshit, seem to keep his mouth going without letup.

We pull up to the main building and turn the car over to the valet parking service. The others want to go to the bar and celebrate the victory. I’ve had enough excitement for one evening, so I beg off and head back to my room for some much needed quiet time. Besides, I think it would be better to let a little time pass before A.J. and I discuss what happened back there. Emotions were running a bit high and it would be unfortunate to let this thing color our relationship.

A.J. had the natural letdown of the victor. His former opponents, rendered harmless, he’s suddenly full of pity and understanding. I’m more of a trained finisher. Once attacked, I want to finish off my opponent once and for all. I want there to be no chance of a rematch. In this case I stopped short of killing them, but not because I wanted to. It was simply the more politic thing to do at the time. If one of us had been hurt or killed, I would have finished all three and neither A.J. nor anyone else would have stopped me.

I feel a strange emotional calm overcoming me as I step into my room. Leaning back, I close and lock the door behind me. I empty my pockets of the evening’s loot, put my jacket on a hanger and walk to a chair in the corner near the bed. Lights aren’t necessary… there’s a dim glow filtering through the edges of the drapes from the ground lamps outside. I sit in the chair next to my bed, shut my eyes… and let the night close in.

I will myself to breathe deep and slowly. Before long my body begins to relax and I feel the tension gradually drain away. My eyes remain closed and the tropical smells begin to make their way into the room… they permeate everything… my clothes, my skin… everything I touch. It’s quiet. The normal sounds of the animal world are silenced with the presence of humans.

I strain to hear him… I know he’s nearby… waiting for me, as I am waiting for him. We know one of us is about to die. Every sense is fighting for survival. I followed him out of the perimeter and lost him almost immediately, but I know he hasn’t gone far. This has to be one of the dumbest things I have ever done in my life. But I almost had him before he slipped past the wire! My eyes try to penetrate the dark without success. I quietly sniff the air for any strange smell… sweat, food, urine, anything. Afraid to move, I listen for the telltale rustle of a leaf or a branch. There’s nothing, not a sound. And then it happens.

With a rush of motion he charges silently from my right. How in the hell he found me is a mystery, but not one I’m going to dwell on right now. For some reason I move an instant before he lunges and the knife tears through my side instead of my heart. He’s not so lucky. My blade slides under his rib cage and I ride him to the ground, stifling his cries with my forearm. His body spasms as his life force leaves.

We lay together for several minutes, but only one of us is breathing heavily. I feel as though I have just run a marathon. Waves of pain and nausea sweep over me. I’m bleeding badly, but I will myself to remain conscious. I don’t want to die here. It’s not far to get to the safety of our position, but there might be more than one of these guys. If there is, I might not make it… I’m leaking big-time… it’s tough to breathe. Trying to move requires more strength than I can find. I feel like I’m drowning… a dizzy, falling sensation…

A distant pounding helps to keep me awake. It’s like a drum, so close. A weird question forms in my mind: What the hell would make a noise like a drum? Sounds like artillery fire, a long ways off. Holding my hand to my side, I try to stop the bleeding… there’s so much noise. It’s getting louder… louder. Shit, my side hurts… I need help. The pounding won’t stop. Still louder… like it’s right next to me.

Hell, it’s the door. Someone’s pounding on my door.

“Just a minute!” I call out, my voice cracking.

Crossing the room somewhat unsteadily, I feel my heart pounding like a jackhammer. My hand hits the light switch and I flick on the light before opening the door. Furtively, I check my hand for blood… I can’t helpit. It all seemed so real. Billy stands in the lighted hall with a smirk on his face.

“Want to go to another fight?”

“What’s up, Billy?” I ask, ignoring the question.

I’m not in the mood for any jokes right now.

“Lionel has called A.J. out… he wants to fight him.” Billy is smiling from ear to ear. “A.J. finally went too far and really pissed Lionel off. They’re getting ready to go at it out by the putting green.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, my mind completely clear now. “Jesus, Bat, we can’t have them fighting. Even if A.J. is screwing around, someone could get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Phil,” Bat replies laughing. “The only reason I came to get you is to see if you’re interested in some entertainment tonight. So far things have been pretty tense.” He steps back and a strange look comes over his face. “Hey, man… you ever consider taking your clothes off before getting in the shower?”

For the first time I realize I’m soaking wet. The cool air of the room is starting to penetrate my skin and I shiver involuntarily. But there’s no time to explain or worry about it now. Bat may be right about the confrontation, but I don’t want to take any chances. I reach in the closet and grab my jacket. The door closes behind me and we start for the putting green.

Rounding the corner of the main building we can see two men silhouetted against the ground lights. Coming closer, we see A.J. standing with his hands on his hips, watching Lionel circle with his hands in a classic boxing position. Lionel’s feet shuffle back and forth as his head moves from side to side, slipping punches that aren’t there. He advances to within four or five feet of A.J. and then quickly backs away. Turning from side to side, this way and that, he continues to circle A.J. looking for an opening. He will need a large ring if he ever decides to turn professional. Something about the size of a super market parking lot might be the ticket.

A.J. greets us with a casual wave of his hand as we walk up to the arena.

“Hey, guys… what’s up?”

I nod to A.J. and then look at Lionel whose attention remains rigidly focused on his adversary. Billy covers his mouth with his sore hand… I suspect he’s smiling.

“What do you say, boys… why don’t we adjourn for a drink?” I offer.

“Love to, Phil,” A.J. replies without smiling, “but as you can see, I’m fighting right now.”

Lionel makes no comment and continues to go through his gyrations… he’s all business. His energetic fighting style gradually captivates me and I have trouble maintaining control. If this keeps up, I just might piss my pants. Suddenly Lionel’s foot kicks out at A.J. The fact that he’s over five feet away when he launches his attack prevents him from inflicting any serious damage, unless he gives himself a hyper-extended knee.

“What the hell was that all about, Train?” A.J. asks. “Got something stuck on your shoe?”

“You’ll find out what’s on my shoe when it’s up your ass,” Lionel growls. “You’ve fucked me over for the last time, A.J.”

He continues with his whirling dervish performance, his ponderous belly bouncing in time with his exertions. Breathing heavily, beads of sweat rolling down his face, Lionel keeps the pressure on A.J. with a series of combination punches and dazzling footwork. A.J. looks at the ground and shakes his head. After watching Lionel’s pugilistic ballet for another half-minute or so, A.J. turns to us and shrugs his shoulders.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this guy?”

“I suggest you apologize to Lionel for whatever it was you said,” I say in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Any man as big and fast as Lionel can do serious damage, A.J.”

Hearing this, Lionel redoubles his efforts, nearly falling down with one of his fancier moves. A.J. understands immediately and turns to Lionel with his arms outstretched.

“Train, I apologize for what I said at the bar. I was just kidding. I know your best move in a fight isn’t to fart at someone.”

My strategy might have worked if I had known what was coming. But I didn’t know and I burst out laughing before I can stop myself. It was only one ‘Ha!’, but one’s enough when the timing is right. Billy still has his mouth covered, but his shaking shoulders and watery eyes give him away. Lionel stops his relentless onslaught, drops his hands and stares at me in disbelief.

With this, my friend, A.J. turns to me and says, “God dammit, Phil, this isn’t funny. Lionel’s a tough customer… we all know that. I was just busting his balls and he took it the wrong way… but that’s no reason to make light of the situation.”

A.J. is such a prick I can only admire the maneuver. But here I am, holding on for dear life as Lionel continues to glare at me. If I laugh again, Lionel will never forgive me. I bite my lip and look away, hoping for some distraction like a UFO or a shooting star to divert my attention. None of those things are happening, however, and tears begin to make their way down my cheeks. I take a deep breath and try to speak. My voice emerges frail and shaky.

“You’re right, A.J., I don’t know what came over me. I just had this mental image of Lionel backing you up tonight and it made me laugh… I don’t know why… those guys would have gone for you in a heartbeat if the big guy hadn’t been there.”

Finished with my little speech, which made absolutely no sense at all, I look away at the ground light to my right and close my eyes in one last effort to regain control of what’s left of my mind. Unfortunately nothing seems to be working for me right now. I think I’m going to shit my pants. I can’t breathe. Tears trickle down my face. No one has said a word for one or two eternities and except for Billy’s grunting and snorting and snuffling, there isn’t much noise in the area. Where in the hell are earthquakes and suddenstorms when you need them? It doesn’t have to be a hurricane with its own name or anything like that, just a sudden heavy downpour would do the job… maybe a little wind with it to stir things up. Unfortunately, the perfect semi-tropical evening continues without event. In fact, I think the skies might even be clearing of the few misty clouds drifting high overhead.

Finally, Lionel speaks.

“I accept your apology, A.J.,” he says in a businesslike manner. “Yours, too, Phil.” Another moment of quiet, then he slaps A.J. on the back. “Come on, you can buy me that beer now… I’ve really worked up a thirst.”

I look at Billy as Lionel and A.J. walk towards the clubhouse. We shake our heads, signaling for silence between us, in an unspoken agreement to buy time and a little distance… we could still blow it. I take a deep breath and relish the oxygen. God, it’s good tobreathe again..

***

A.J. and I enter the meeting room and the conversational buzz stops immediately and completely. A.J. wanders towards a seat in the front row, and after a little good-natured pushing and shoving, finally sits while I proceed to the podium.

A voice from the back of the room poses a question.

“Care to comment on last night’s activities, Phil?”

I look at the questioner without comment or expression. The room remains dead quiet. This is not a subject I wish to pursue, so I just smile and do my best to ignore the question. Anything I say will be misconstrued or misinterpreted, therefore it’s best to leave it alone. There are no further interruptions and the meeting moves along right on schedule.

A.J. grabs me at the first break before I can leave the room.

“I’ve got to know… what are you going to do with all that loot you got last night?”

I return A.J.’s intense look with a smile.

“Fair question. All the cash and the proceeds from the sale of the other items will go to the Salvation Army. That’s my favorite charity. More correctly, it’s my only charity.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Well I’ll be damned.”

“No bet.”

A.J. stares at me in thoughtful silence before continuing, “One more thing… did you really get upset with me last night? You sort of acted upset, but I wasn’t sure. I knew you were still hot from the fight and I should have left you alone. I guess I was just feeling sorry for those jerks… dumb, huh?”

I was hoping we wouldn’t have to go back over this ground, but I suppose we had better get it behind us. I don’t want A.J. to get any more crazy ideas… he sort of has a corner on that market already. I don’t have anyhard feelings and I certainly don’t want him to have any.